Pre-Fall Journal #8: Deneen

Sept 30, 8280 BC

I am to leave this village I have come to call home at dawn. The journey across the sea to Se’rai’s homeland will be long and arduous, no doubt. I’ve never crossed the sea, the need never have arisen, but in this instance I am willing to brave the ocean god’s fury to bring our plan to fruition.

Most unexpectedly, I find that I will miss the small settlement and its peculiar inhabitants already. Though we are of a different tongue and blood, there is a familiarity between us and I find myself loathing the thought of losing it.

Alas, greater things are at play now and I will not allow my emotional weakness to jeopardize this chance the gods have laid before me. I allowed my feelings to get the better of me once before- its cost me everything.

History would have repeated itself, however, had I not taken certain precautions to protect myself. The hunters nearly succeeded in burning me at the stake last time they caught up with me, my magick stripped by the dragon ash dusted pyre. Even Se’rai would have been helpless against the effects.

I do not worship the One god, but I can say with assurance that I would surely prefer Annwyn, the afterlife of my people, to the Hell the fanatical worshipers of the One god ascribe to and had it not been for Leanan’s help, I surely would have found myself among the denizens of the underworld. Though I have never laid eye upon her, I will never forget all that she did for me- the life altering magick she taught me.

I regret that I cannot share these secrets with Se’rai, but she would never appreciate what I do, never approve. Younglings, even those spawned from a viscous demon attack, would be considered human to her, worth saving. No, her pure, proud mother’s heart would never allow her to countenance the things I do under the light of the New Moon, but she did not endure the torture I did, nor bear the scars I hide beneath my shawl.

They owe me this.

I am sure to tell every hellspawn that before I take from them that which they may one day use against innocents and use it for the greater good. Their sacrifice is my strength, and I am always merciful in sending them unto Arwan’s embrace. After all, a fiend, even one borne of a human mother, is still a product of evil and it is my duty as a tool of the gods to rid the world of them, is it not?

The question consumes my thoughts as I watch the shores fade into the rising Moon’s embrace. The lilim were are just another breed of demons, a plague unleashed upon the world by a selfish female, but they are unlike anything I have encountered before.

If I am to do the impossible and survive this coup against the Mother of Lilim, then I must fight fire with fire… I will do the forbidden and draw power from the darkest magicks.

Pre-Fall Journal #7: Galicia

Sept 28, 8280 BC

I was summoned to Elysium again today. I had half a mind to ignore the order, my thoughts occupied by the new information I’d discovered in the Primus Historium. Information that could very well aid me, Se’rai and Deneen in our mission to topple the First Woman.

In the end, I did as duty dictated and that was how I found myself yet again standing before the Seven. To my infinite relief, Gabriel was present this time around…and he did not seem pleased.

Archangel Michael wasted no time, demanding progress on the two women whose help I’d enlisted before my wings even settled against my back. I wisely bit my tongue to keep from saying something foolish. He had always been that way, rude and crass in a way that not even the other Archs were. It was what set him apart, what made him unique. What made him Primus Angelus.

It was also the source of the primal tremor of fear that danced down my spine- Michael would not be a merciful adversary.

Thankfully, Gabriel’s presence gave me the strength to present my plan proudly, even as the others regarded me with open disdain. Behind my calm façade a foreign part of me had come awake with a vicious snarl.

How dare they sit upon their thrones of ivory and judge me? As though I am not carrying out the will of our Father. As if I am not sullying my hands with a deplorable task they consider beneath them.

I am an Archangel, a Virtue of the Second Sphere with hundreds of angels at my command. I will be regarded with the esteem my position dictates, rather they give it willingly or otherwise.

They do not understand, the Seven. While they rule from their pristine home, rumors dance through the Host of Heaven- the Kingdom is ripe for rebellion.

The other Orders are not happy with the action being taken against the First Wife.

We all witnessed the result of the Seven’s original efforts- thousands of angels were slaughtered trying to bring her to heel. Not many are so eager to fly to certain death again.

And after learning what I have in the Historium, I will not either

I know our leaders kept secrets, but if the manuscripts are right, my brothers and sisters have been terribly misled for far too long.

I spoke not a word, of course. Zethar, with his midnight black hair and piercing cerulean eyes, is well-known for his role as the Seven’s executioner. He would break every bone in my wings and watch gleefully as I plummet from the sky.

No, I will be smart, I will bind my time. The day will come when those who misled us will answer to our Father.

Pre-Fall Journal #6: Se’rai

Sept 26, 8280 BC

I decided my journey home would be best undertaken by ferry. The toll it takes on my mind and body to perform the magick necessary to cross the Great Sea is significant and I cannot afford that kind of vulnerability at present. There are many who would see a blade in my chest to gain the power I command and I will do anything to keep it from them.

Of course, I also have so much to think about, so much to consider.

Our plan is coming together rapidly now that we have the three main components. Though I’ve not spoken with Galicia since I provided her my answer, I have no doubt that she will uphold her end of our arrangement. She is an angel after all. Surely if anyone can be trusted, it would be an emissary of the one, true God.

It soothes me to know that, if all does not go as planned, my children and their own children would er’r more be ensconced in the very capable hands of an all-powerful angel.

Deneen believes my faith in the other female is misplaced, but I see the envy that shadows her gaze when she thinks I’m unmindful. No longer is she the timid girl who ran from my home so many moons ago, cowering at every shadow. No, the woman whom I’d broken bread with two nights past was altogether different.

Visions of blood and tears, that’s what I saw when we touched.

The vision should concern me, as it would any normal woman, and rightfully so, but I am no ordinary woman. The women before me had braved every danger to protect their people from all threats. I will not be the Queen to dishonor their sacrifice by allowing the proud Machi to fall to the First Wife’s dark magick, no matter the cost.

As I write this, however, I cannot escape the sinking feeling in my stomach that before this is all over many will suffer.

Pre-Fall Journal #5: Deneen

Sept 24, 8280 BC

I have grown weary of waiting to be sought out. It has been three days since my little spies brought me news of the arrival of an outsider in the city. I had to know all I could about them, of course. Last a stranger came to my village, I’d lost everything. I would not allow it to happen again.

To my boundless relief it was a very old, very good friend from my past seeking my help.

I must confess, I was just as shocked to see her as she was to see the life I now lived. She understood, of course, Se’rai. She has always been that way- thoughtful and gentle, empathetic in a way my peers never had been.

The years had changed her naught.

Not a wrinkle dared form upon neither her face nor a single strand of gray peeked through the crown of ebony. She was a Queen in her prime, same as the day she took me under her wing so many winters ago.

Alas, that is the beauty of immortality; one stays forever young and beautiful, an eternal maiden.

I envy Se’rai that; her very presence invoked a spirit of jealously that choked my thoughts firmly in its grasp. If only, I mused, I was granted that same gift. I could accomplish so much in this world soiled by corruption and evil.

The gods, it seemed, were at work in our lives. My old teacher, the woman who had been a mother to me when my own left me to die, sought my help. I hastily agreed to help deal a blow to the fiends who plague my village and, of course,  my dreams.

Revenge, a voice from the darkest recesses of my mind whispered.

Yes, I would help my old friend, it was the least I could do. She did, after all, show me the ways of magick, the very thing that had saved my life so many times. I would do this one spell, I decided, I would risk the First Wife’s’ wrath if it meant I would get my vengeance.

After all, it was one of the children of the very same goddess who slaughtered my family. It was a Lilim that took the innocence of a young girl so long ago.

Pre-Fall Journal # 4: Se’rai

Sept 20, 8280 BC

Two days have come and gone since I was approached in the market by Heaven’s messenger. Even now I cannot bring myself to believe what the angel asked of me.

I am not sure that what it is that the angel has asked of me is even possible, and even less sure that I can do it. The strange shroud that separates the island Lemuria that Lilith and her progeny inhabit from our world is possibly one of the strongest protection spells I have ever encountered. And is comprised of dark magick, the likes of which I have never touched.

For any instant I felt the sheer power of it rush through my body, pushing and shoving at my mind. Thoughts, dark thoughts not my own flooded my mind. The cold, absoluteness of that power chilled me to my very bones. It was then that I realized that, even for all the power I wielded, this would take much more than me and the angel for the spell.

I would do this, not just because of the command of a stunning angel, but because I could not allow our beautiful world to become contaminated with this kind of darkness. Ever.

Every single one of my people knows the stories about the First Wife. How she betrayed her husband and seduced an Archangel. How she birthed and protects the cruel demons that ravage the dreams of men and women to feed their dark powers.

That she disobeyed the one, true God.

I would be a fool not to fear the consequences should the wrong individual uncover that I conspired to bring that same female to heel.

Accordingly, I dared not speak a word of what I was doing. Not even to my beloved Rajor. For all that I love him, my husband, with his loving heart, would not understand what I must do. He would never condone it, would hate me for the rest of eternity, but I cannot falter in my mission. So much lies at stake of we fail.

The younglings, I told myself as I gathered the necessary ingredients and tomes I would need, they were my reason for doing this. For their safety, for their future, I would see every Lilim dead before the Host of Heaven.

Pre-Fall Journal #3: Se’rai

Sept 18, 8280 BC

The younglings accompanied me to the city today. Their father opposed passionately, reminding me of the risks of thieves and aspirators. In the end he came to realize he would not win this battle.

Salem shadowed us as we left the sanctity of our fortress. I could not have felt more safe had the angels themselves swooped down from the Heavens.

One of very few remaining shadou, Salem’s family has protected mine for generations, a blood bond of the deepest kind binding our destinies together irrevocably.

Not that the blood bond matters; something deeper and more profound connects Salem to mine blooded family.

The atmosphere of the city was unusually chaotic today, but I paid it no mind. In hindsight, perhaps I should have, but I was unfocused on my surroundings, too absorbed with the safety of the younglings.

That was how she came upon us without my knowledge.

I did not register her arrival, nor how my youngest slipped away to speak to the female with hair of the purest blonde, eyes the color of the sea and flesh kissed by the Sun itself. She was beautiful beyond mortal comprehension….

And I attacked on pure instinct, a maternal beast overriding all warnings in my mind that this being could tear her apart with rustling those beautiful white feathers.

I was easily subdued, of course along with Salem, the sheer magnitude of her mere presence overwhelming both my protective wards and even Salem’s powerful shields. Thinking back now, I realize had the female wanted us dead, we would be nothing more than insects to be crushed.

I was calmed quickly as my rational mind put together the obvious; I was in the presence of a fabled angel.

Salem fell reverently to a knee beside me, and I followed suit. I, after all, had never seen such a divine creature. Of course, today must have been destined for a lot of “firsts”; what the angel, Galicia she was called, had asked of me had never been done.

If we succeeded, I would be the first to ever breach the protective veil of a Goddess’ realm.

Pre-Fall Journal #2: Galicia

Sept 16, 8280 BC

The looks have begun to ruffle my feathers. I no longer frequent the fellowship chambers and no one will meet my gaze any longer. Even Emergan’s ever-laughing eyes dull with apprehension when I draw near.

I have become an outcast in every way.

I know the cause, of course; the Seven. I have done what few have dared before and ignored the summon to return to Elysium for two weeks now. In doing so, I’ve caused the other to begin to question them as well.

I do not trust them, especially Michael. I’ve never felt such power from another of my brethren. So cold and removed, so absolute. It unnerves me, the way his merciless blue eyes follow my every move as though I was an insect under his inspection.

I fear what will happen the day when the Archangel will tire of whatever game he imagines we are playing. When he grows bored of the mind games.

I never felt relief such as when I finally winged my way out of the presence of the six most powerful beings in existence. I flew fast and hard, getting as far away from the home of the Seven as I could.

Phelia was at my aerie when I arrived, inquiring of the rumors she had heard amongst the younger angels. Some foreign part of me wanted to tell her that my business was none of hers, that she’d lost her right to worry about me. In the end I couldn’t bring myself to be that disrespectful.

She is, after all, not only my superior, but the one who gave me life.

I told her everything, the weight I hadn’t known was on my chest alleviated with every word that fell from my lips. I told her of my fear of failure, of not exemplifying our Order as both she and my cousins did.

Of not knowing if what I would do was the right thing.

It amazes me, even after all these centuries of nothing I accomplished being good enough for mother, that the wingling in me still sought approval, craved affection that never came.

Perhaps Emergan was right; we never stop seeking the approval of our parents.

By the time I had finished spilling my secrets to my mother and she’d gone, I had made my decision. I would accept the Seven’s “offer” and I would do what no other Archangel had attempted; I would destroy the First Wife’s inner circle.